The Ugly Reality of Youth Unemployment in Greece
The first time they break your heart
How do you introduce yourself in your love-filled, self-created blog? Someone that writes what feels true. The words come from different places. The mind, the gut, the past. Today I am writing on a wooden desk an ugly piece that comes from a fierce heart. I don’t write this piece out of spite. To be honest, I feel ten feet tall.
Not surprisingly at all, I am incredibly young. I am only 25 years old. Had I been a stranger reading my poems, I’d guess the age from the sharpness of the words, bouncing off emotions. I still have the temperament of a teenager. With better eyesight. I sharpened it like a knife.
A proud young woman, indeed. I am proud of overcoming my personal struggles, I am proud for chasing independence, my travels, my stories, my love language. I am also proud of my education, my culture, and my humble knowledge of Greek cuisine! Our food is delicious. And everything is handmade.
As food fuels, education empowers. And unemployment is a thief. It is actually a sinister thief. Of joy. Of future lines. Of time. Of society. It is like robbing the knee from a well-done Michaelangelo statue. What will happen?
I have been blessed and validated. I have had jobs working the profession I graduated in. A rarity in Greece. A rarity I am very much aware of. The employment system in Greece inspires a form of desperation with such precision, you would think architects made it.
Most people my age are not working, fewer of them are working something different than what they strived in school for. What they dedicated their academic years to.
My beloved country, my country that makes me incredibly proud has broken our hearts. Not this week or this year. Long before that. Greece has the highest rate of youth unemployment in Europe. It is as raw and ugly as it looks. Or maybe it doesn’t. It is hidden behind tourism-related professions. Which of course are high in demand. People from all backgrounds will seek employment there. As they should. When you don’t give someone a seat at the table, they still have to eat.
Being unemployed is living a different life. In the beginning, it is like watching the tower you build with hard work and hours of studying, crumbling before your very eyes at 18 and 19 years old. Many Greek teenagers have heard the common words, ‘Not this profession. There is no money in it. You will do something else.’ My personal calling was art. Here, being an artist will not give you chances. But, Art doesn’t die. Just the umbilical cord that would guide the Greek art student to Greece.
Moving on, you get used to it. Suddenly it gets finalized inside you. You build a much smaller tower. And that’s it. That’s the tower. Your view has been shortened. Your choices are limited. Your dreams are very much limited. You will either have the tools to still chase them or not. Not everyone is born in a supportive or financially comfortable family.
The stress of looking for a job is crippling. I am using this word again. It is the reality, though. There will be no edits in this piece.
It is crippling. The details are unclear on the ads, often jobs are given to the boss’s son or nephew or bird. The level of insecurity you feel, with so few lifelines, not knowing if your name is one of them if you will get the call, is like feeling the chokehold tightening. You are so desperate to work as you deserve so. You deserve to have the funds, yes, the money, to have the life you want. Of course and you are desperate. There is no shame to say it. The unemployment numbers are a solid wall of truth.
It is painful, it is heartbreaking. Leaving a man without a job is criminal.
I wanted to write this personal piece and reveal one more thing under the boat. Not something in hiding. Something that matters.
