Jesse Liebman reflects on his lifelong experience with “fight or flight” and how the world has delivered him to where he was meant to be right now.
1000hires Candidate Spotlight is a series chronicling the experiences of unemployed job seekers during the COVID-1 9pandemic and beyond.
June 25th, 2020.
The date marks a day in which my wife and my life would change forever.
We were a little over three months into my organization’s new state of normal. The leadership team knew the effects that the pandemic and rising racial tensions were having. Every two to three weeks, we took Friday’s off to allow everyone to mentally regroup and recharge. As an organization, we were fiscally prepared. We continually maintained the position that despite the pandemic affecting our bottom line, we were not having any layoffs.
In the days that followed, I spent a considerable amount of time in reflection wondering why my life had led me to this place and point. I’m a believer that everything happens for a reason and thus I found myself wondering if the choices I had made, stemming back to High School, had set me up for what would ultimately transpire and the new deck of cards I had been dealt.
Throughout my career, I’ve sought the seemingly impossible combination of finding an organization that not only valued my contributions, but aligned with my personal morals. My Mother always believed if I had stuck to my initial pursuit of a Mechanical Engineering Degree, I could have insulated myself from the harsh realities the business world unleashes on its participants. Yet, in spite of the countless years of advice family and friends had bestowed on me, I was determined to follow Frank Sinatra’s words and ‘Do It My Way’.
I didn’t graduate top of my class in High School. I wish I could boast about being in the 5th percentile instead of the 95th percentile with SAT scores less than 1,000 points. I didn’t go to a prestigious College. Instead, opting for Community College for two years before finishing at a state School. It didn’t feel like a momentous occasion. Yet, as a first generation college graduate, I knew statistically the advantages I would have simply through the privilege of owning that piece of paper. Instead of opting for the security a degree in engineering would provide, I followed my passion for continuing education in the field of Digital Marketing. I was more concerned about creating a lifestyle of working from anywhere in the world so long as I had an Internet connection and laptop.
By 23 years old, I was faced with the first major decision of my career in my first job outside of the Higher Education doors:
Sit down, shut up, and be grateful for what you have
Or
Do what you believe is the right thing to do
Again, I had the privilege of my parents willingness for me to live at home until I was ready to leave. My Father told me stories about how he had left his Mother’s apartment only to return several years later because he couldn’t make it financially He didn’t want me to make the same mistakes. It made taking the leap of faith much easier than others that don’t have the ability to consider these choices of molarity above financial stability. I found the courage to take the leap of faith and did the right thing, knowing fully it meant I was voluntarily quitting and therefore preventing myself from being eligible for unemployment.
Concurrently, I was pursuing a passion for being a College basketball referee. I didn’t become a referee because I inhibited athletic prowess. Quite the opposite. I spent the entire Summer leading into my Freshman year of High School, literally 10–12 hours a day, getting up shots, doing drills, running, and lifting weights, in preparation for team tryouts. Yet, at 4’8’’ and 85 lbs dripping wet with no jumper or handles, it was difficult to see myself making my way onto a roster. I was great at throwing illegal back picks to free up my teammates and also taking charges on the defensive end. I would come into class with wrist braces on because I didn’t know how to fall properly, but proudly averaged two or three per game nearly 2–3x my scoring average. I embraced with gusto giving up my body for the sake of the team inheriting another possession. When I didn’t make the High School team I was completely distraught. My Mother told me, “Instead of feeling sorry for yourself, why don’t you go get a job.” I said, “At 13 years old, what am I supposed to do?” My Father refereed basketball at the local Boys & Girls Club growing up. I’d hear stories of him fouling my Mother out for using those patented Sheinis elbows to box out her opponents or set a screen. It made sense that I’d take up the opportunity to be a paid referee for the local recreational basketball league I played in for seven years growing up.
After making this decision, in eight short years, I went from knowing nothing about officiating to being on a college basketball court with athletes that were bigger, faster, stronger, and in many cases, older than I was. I could count on one hand the number of Jews I had encountered in refereeing up to that point: one, my Father. Yet, I was determined to join my Chaver in Mike Greenstein as the only other Jew I knew to work at the Division I level.
My professional and refereeing careers plugged along experiencing both accomplishments and struggles. My moral compass was continuously tested between helping yourself and doing the right thing no matter the personal impact. I was constantly learning and soaking up information from literally anyone that would give me their time. However, I struggled to reach my goals of being a manager in my professional career and couldn’t crack the Division II level in my basketball officiating.
I was already mentoring, teaching, and training in officiating, yet it didn’t translate to the professional world. My leadership acumen was constantly brought under question despite meticulously studying and analyzing every manager I’d ever encountered in my career. I thought all I needed was an organization, a boss, to believe in me and to give me a chance. I watched friend after friend pass by me by reaching the Division II or even Division I ranks. I had two choices:
Continue to grind, prepare, and trust the process
Or
Quit
I had already given up on multiple interests in my life. Video games, engineering, running, drumming, soccer officiating, and many, more. It was easy to feel defeated. It was easy to feel that doing the right thing was preventing me from achieving personal success. It would have been easy to go ‘all or nothing’ into another passion or change careers.
Instead, I made the decision to trust myself. If I continued to ‘do it my way’, that it would prepare me for something bigger. The moment was about getting reps, I was currently in a marathon not a sprint, and the most important thing was to learn from each and every situation I encountered. I needed to continue my pursuit to do the right thing even though it felt as though I was getting in the way of my own success.
Then, along came this spark. Their name was Jean.
I did everything my way, against the grain. I wrote three page long emails to start our correspondence. I called the day after the first date. Even though Jean told me after the first date they were going to Aviation School as part of the US Coast Guard, and would not be coming back to Oregon, we chose to still see each other. I asked for a BOGO for date #2 and #3. On date number three, I introduced Jean to my parents. Because I was responsible for picking them up from their airport and I didn’t think the date was going to go as well as it did. I let my guard down and let Jean in. Then, trying to be the bigger person, I broke up with her because I was certain Jean would go away to Aviation School and meet some Coast Guard hunk that would break me in half. I did this, only to run crying into my Mother’s arms the day I dropped Jean off at the airport. We got back together, and pursued a long-distance relationship. We went six months without seeing each other, only to meet again after I flew in on a red-eye to Milwaukee, WI for the first time in my life, on Christmas Eve, to meet Jean’s entire family and attend midnight mass together.
It was a new adventure, and would require sacrifices.
The first major calculated risk came; to uproot my professional pursuit of being a manager in order to achieve a remote working lifestyle that would enable Jean and I to see each other for longer periods of time. I made the commitment to see Jean once a month and despite diving into the miles and points game, my boss was not keen on me being outside the office. The decision to leave my current company to pursue a more flexible job would trigger an 18-month professional nightmare. I had made the move to leave an organization for greener pastures and instead I found myself being fired after periods of 10 months, 11 days, and five months respectfully.
Fortunately, while my professional career was unstable, I finally cracked the Division II officiating barrier. Perhaps they were connected? While one was breaking through a seven year plateau, the other was stagnating leaving me searching for answers. The pursuit of aligning everything in concert with my job, family, officiating, and relationships was one that again was filled with my personal choices.
I was now bordering on becoming a pro at handling unemployment. I found myself running back to the same circles and thus decided to try something different. I cold emailed over 200 websites and organizations that I respected and read on a consistent basis. Two of the companies I emailed were Million Mile Secrets and The Points Guy. At first these efforts did not appear to bear fruit. I got hired at yet another agency, and immediately knew it was not a long term situation. While I was struggling to hang onto this job for as long as I could, I received a letter from Daraius Dubash the Co-Founder for Million Mile Secrets. He had read my email. Up to that point, they only had writers on their team and did not have a single marketing employee. Here I was, a long-time reader of Million Mile Secrets who learned how to fly monthly to Sacramento for only taxes and fees, talking to the Co-Founder. We set up a conversation and I had a technological disaster. My phone did not charge and I slept through the meeting. I called Jean bawling convinced I had blown the opportunity of a lifetime. I sat on my bed wondering what I should do. It was the first of many decisions to lean into the discomfort and to own the situation. Daraius was understanding and we rescheduled for later in the week.
The following day, I was fired from my job. I had seen the writing on the wall, but it still hurt. I spent the next day having a pity party. Then, it was time for my call with Million Mile Secrets. I was not prepared for the first question which was, “How long do we have you for?” at 6:30 in the morning. After explaining the situation, I was even more unprepared for, “Great, you’re a long-term reader, what’s 10 things you’d do to change our email newsletter or website to make them better?” I had never done freelance work before and spit out a random number that sounded good on paper for a rate. Later that afternoon, I was told they were extending a 30-day trial at my rate. After day one, we extended it to two months. After the first week we extended it to three months and there was never any question about my long-term viability with the organization.
The next four months were the best of my professional career up to that point. I finally felt I was getting everything in alignment and in only six more months Jean would be getting out of the Coast Guard and moving to Portland. Things couldn’t be better.
I remember the moment I received the phone call from Daraius to inform me he had just been let go. Four months after the acquisition, one of my heroes, the individual responsible for giving me a chance in my professional career, was no longer going to be around to protect me from our new parent owner.
Enter fight or flight mode.
We were now a part of a performance driven organization where EBITDA not revenue mattered. They asked questions like, “What is it going to take to 2x, 3x, 4x this business and how can we do it while reducing costs by 25%, 30%, 50%?” I thought Every — Single — Day it might be my last at this organization. The cards were stacked against me. I did not go through their formal Analyst training that garnered classes of 100–150 handpicked candidates from prestigious schools with top of their class GPAs. All I had was my self-taught everything experience, but I was bringing it all to the table. Our team was relentless working 12, 16, 18 hour days hoping our growth trajectory would change and for leadership to notice. I initially took a pay cut to work at Million Mile Secrets because it was a dream job. When the acquisition went through, I was told I was not eligible for the bonus that was in my original contact and thus would either have to stomach a -17% pay cut to stay or go somewhere else. I chose to stay, because I believed in the business and knew if any of our core members left, it would surely cause the business to fold. The business had helped me stay with Jean, and I believed supporting it was the right thing to do.
My new professional goal became getting a promotion. With a promotion, it would signal one thing: Our parent company recognized and valued my contributions believing I was a long-term asset worth investing in and allow me to reach the compensation level I was at three years prior. If they did that, I could begin to feel secure in my job once more. I knew I didn’t come through their front doors or possess their structured training program. On top of that, we went through a tremendous amount of change as a business. One of the key core values of the parent company is ‘Everything is Written in Pencil’ and we owned every bit of it. In 12 months, we had four leadership changes and I had six different acting managers. I was working to get more face time heeding the advice of my manager by traveling to Austin, Charlotte or New York typically once a month for a week at a time. Then, my next manager went on maternity leave. I took over their role over and was now working on The Points Guy too, taking on two jobs at the same time. When my annual review came up I was told I was on pace for a promotion, but was not ready for one because the new management team, and my newest manager, didn’t know what I could do. I was given a +10% pay raise to show the company believed I was a top performer, and destined for great things.
Then, COVID hit.
I was in the process of wrapping up another successful season of officiating. My newfound goal of enjoying the process while not focusing on the aspirational dreams of achievements was working. I was taking one of the other core values from my organization, ‘Get Better Every Day,’ and directly applying it to each and every game on the court. It was working.
This became the main motto through COVID from our parent company. We were experiencing a once in a lifetime opportunity to pause, think, and consider things we had previously never had the space or time to pursue. I was doing my best to embrace the daily activities Jim Valvano suggested of spending some time in thought, having my emotions moved to tears, and laughing. We were warned that not taking this moment in time to come out of it better would become one of life’s greatest disappointments.
Then, came George Floyd.
Our country exploded. It was not lost that in the midst of Pride Month the newest civil rights movement was taking shape. My parents had protected my sisters and I from the fear many Jews have experienced their entire lives. While we had relocated from New York to Oregon, the Crown Heights riots took place only one year after we moved. Three years later, things hit much closer to home in Eugene, with the attack on Temple Beth Israel. Over the next 18 years, there were 16 attacks until that fateful weekend in Pittsburgh. I remember distinctly the weekend when the Tree of Life Attack occurred and what transpired afterwards. It set off five major attacks over the course of a 14-month period. It felt like every weekend, people were waiting for Shabbat to fall, and for hunting season would be back in session. I don’t remember any marches. I don’t remember any phone calls to ‘check in’. I don’t remember any organizations formed or major mass donations made. I don’t remember the general population’s infuriation of these acts.
Yet, I also knew that by the volume of melanin I had in my skin I had a distinct advantage. It was like having floor seats for a concert, being granted entrance to the event, but then being told you had to go to the nose bleeds because they found out your background. I was grateful to be allowed entry to the event, and to not face constant discrimination. So long as no one saw my Last Name, I didn’t attend a Shabbat or Synagogue, or I didn’t talk about being a Jew, I would be safe. I would never understand what it meant to be a slave, to be targeted for the color of my skin, or to have all of the odds be ever against your favor, but I too wanted change. It didn’t matter to me who the face of the movement was for systemic change, so long as it occurred.
I felt torn between seeing mailboxes in my neighborhood tagged with ACAB only to turn around and talk to friends who proudly wore the police blue and were actively working to be the change we wanted to see in the world. It felt like every other moment in my life where everyone was talking and no one was listening. If you even considered an opposing view you were either a racist or part of the problem. We were told ‘White Silence’ was the issue, and yet, as a Jew actively seeking to be part of the solution, it felt taboo to attempt rationally discussing solutions based on collaboration rather than the widespread gutting of our systems. So, Jean and I set forth to leverage our advantages to help others, but doing it in our own way.
I had never been with an organization for longer than two and a half years. Thus, at the three year mark, with my sights set squarely on showcasing that I was a long-term asset, and the rhetoric of ‘ we are not doing any layoffs’, Jean and I set our sights on finding our permanent housing situation in Portland.
We originally started looking for a two bedroom and two bath and quickly realized the financial hardship that situation provided. We also realized, based on Jean’s pursuit of a Master’s Degree in Urban Planning and Real Estate, the systematic bias placed on those seeking to secure one of most predominant items within Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. We knew when we decided to start a family it would take a village and the expense child care placed on a family. While we were both pursuing a remote working lifestyle we also took time to reflect on the environments we grew up in. I had encountered the same number of Black classmates as I did Jews during my first five years of school: one, and the Jew was my sister. While Jean went to an Urban High School and was promptly told not to join the dance team because she was White and White people can’t dance.
We quickly realized, based on the numbers, that if we were willing to embrace our minimalist lifestyle and find a housing situation that served more than just our family, but other families as well, we could have our cake and eat it too. We found a condo that was new construction and yet had been on and off the market for nearly two years. It had 4 bedrooms, and plenty of space for both ourselves and others who chose to live with us. The original asking price had dropped by over $100,000 in that time. We toured the house and were on the fence. The agent that showed us the condo made the statement, “It’s a nice place, but not the greatest neighborhood. It’s likely why it hasn’t moved off the market yet.” I sought clarification on what they meant by ‘not the greatest neighborhood’. After stumbling for words I finished the sentence for them loud enough that anyone in their yard would hear. “Oh, you mean it’s not the greatest neighborhood because Black people live here, huh?” This was quickly followed by the agents’ defense telling us about all of the Black friends they have in their life and they are not a racist. Based on the statements of the agent, and the evidence of our own eyes, it was clear why such a well built unit had not sold.
Yet this was our opportunity. Between the builder going bankrupt, and it being a clear play to gentrify the neighborhood, the price was better than anything else we could find. This, plus the advantages of Jean’s VA loan and the market’s historic rates, meant we could check all of our boxes. Our kids could grow up in one of the last melting pots of Portland, within a village where we would all help each other. Jean and I could leverage our advantages, and make our home a beacon for providing affordable housing for as many as six people from four different families. We would finally have the financial stability we needed, by decreasing our housing costs, which would enable us to create other, greater positive impacts on our community. We raced to put an offer in, performed our inspection, and were biding our time before the VA approved our loan. It all felt meant to be.
Then June 25th, 2020, finally hit.
I’ve never had a positive association with nondescript, end of day, same day scheduled meetings with the executive team. Jean thought it would be a great opportunity to tell them about all of the projects I was independently working on to ensure we came out of COVID stronger, despite the travel industry limping to stay afloat. However, when our HR partner and the executive team member came onto the video conference at the same time, I knew what was likely about to happen. The executive team member said, “Jesse, this is going to be a very hard conversation.” I was being fired with exactly five business days’ notice. The rationale was that as a performance-based company, they no longer believed I had a long-term opportunity to succeed within their organization. Out of respect for me, instead of keeping me on-board, they were going to help me by letting me pursue other opportunities.
I was completely blindsided.
I mentioned my housing situation and practically begged them to stay on until we closed on the house. They were unwilling. I presented all of the projects and work I was doing, and made a case for a longer transition so I could pass them off properly. They were unwilling. And thus, the sprint of my life began.
Family and friends tried to ease my worry by saying it was only a house and there were plenty of houses out on the market. They tried to coach me to take my time and to find the right organization; to not let my emotions get in the way of finding a situation that was best for me long-term. They thought I should enjoy the freedom and the security of unemployment benefits because I had paid into the system.
However, there were some family members that could not be by my side. My entire life, I’d pursued achievement and relished in the stability of being able to make a phone call and instantaneously know one of my biggest fans would be proud. They wore it across their chest in the form of ‘Proud Grandparent’. In each of their passings’ I learned in more detail how much I meant to them; the indiscernible pictorials, the camp project creations, the barely legible letters… there were all still there. Everything I made and gave them was kept proudly and viewed not as some amateur blob, but as a token of love and appreciation for them. What made this period even more challenging than my previous bouts of unemployment was the simultaneous loss of my last remaining grandparent.
It felt like I was back in High School on the track running laps with tears streaming down my eyes. I didn’t know exactly where I was, or where I was going, but I was running. In that moment, I knew this is what I’d be preparing for when I was meant for something bigger. I had the security of my loving wife Jean, an emergency fund, and a family that would support me through thick and thin. Yet, it was time to take the training wheels off and do more uncomfortable things, in a shorter period of time, with the stakes as high as they could be, than I’d ever done before.
This was the ultimate fight or flight mode. Previously, it felt as though it was only a simulator. I was channeling all of the situations that have transpired in my life into each and every day. In the first two weeks, I submitted and cold emailed over 250 individuals about job opportunities. No one was forcing me to go at the pace I was choosing to. No one would begrudge me if I took some time off to reflect, to mourn, and find myself. But I would not let myself rest until I knew I either had a new opportunity, or the house had been sold to someone else.
The seller was empathetic to our situation, but decided to terminate the transaction. We hoped our goodwill of pointing out their $10,000 mistake with the taxes would be enough for them to give us a few weeks to secure a new position. Instead, they wanted to secure a sale by the end of August and thus put the house back on the market. After a week, they lowered the price by $5,000 in hopes someone would bite.
That’s when my momentum changed. I was in discussions with an organization called Three Ships and more specifically Pillar Four Media which focused on the sleep and wellness industry. While the conversations were positive and progressing, I still felt we were working against the clock and any potential new suitors for the house. I was given a Case Study during the interview process that typically takes about a week to complete. The point was to showcase how I thought about Digital Marketing. Instead, in about nine hours, I put together my full strategy, 16-slide PowerPoint presentation, and then in one take gave a 40-minute video presentation delivering it at 2am the same day.
Then, it was a waiting game.
Finally, the offer came. They didn’t want to mess around with counter offers and gave their best shot. It was as if I had achieved my promotion. Even before day one on the job, it felt as though I was a long-term asset worth investing in. We then took that offer and spun it around right back on the same house. The seller tried to counter with the original offer, but we stood our ground.
30-days later, here we are, keys in hand.
The exercise of writing out this condensed version of my autobiography was for both self-reflection and to see the connections between the many lessons I’ve been taught over the years. I know, this will not be the last time that I need to enact the fight or flight response system. I also recognize how fortunate both Jean and I were throughout the entirety of this process. There’s been moments over the past month that I wondered if I had used up all of the good karma I’d been amassing over the previous 33 years. However, we know that our work is just beginning as we start our next saga in the never ending journey to create both a loving family, and help the community around us.
If the cards are currently not, or never were, in your favor I empathize with your situation and hope you will heed the words of Jim Valvano to, “Don’t give up. Don’t ever give up.” If the cards are ever in your favor, then I wish you continued success and hope that you will continue to use the opportunities and advantages you’re presented with, to prepare yourself for the next challenge that comes your way. Also, my hope is that like a barrel of monkeys, that you reach down and help pull others up, so that they can make their own good fortune too.
About Jesse Liebman
Jesse Liebman is a husband and family man first, and digital marketer second. Jesse is currently a Sr. Marketing Ops Associate for Pillar Four Media where he helps make data pretty and understandable while working to optimize site performance. In Jesse’s spare time he enjoys traveling with his family, refereeing college and high school basketball, eating copious amounts of Vegan food with his badass wife, and doing the right thing regardless of personal impact in an effort to be the change we want to see in the world. You can reach Jesse at liebman.jesse@gmail.com or via LinkedIn at https://www.linkedin.com/in/jesseliebman/.
About 1000hires
1000hires aims to get at least 1000 people impacted by COVID-19 layoffs back on their feet, using bite-sized interviews for recruiters and prospective employers to get a glimpse of their story. Check us out at 1000hires.com and follow us on LinkedIn for more information on how we’re helping jobseekers: https://www.linkedin.com/company/1000hires.
