Tom Nguyen, 45, Los Angeles
Website administrator, architectural field technician, promoter, social media assistant
I lost my job in the recession of 2009. I was a software developer. Apart from having to go back to a nine-to-five job for one year in 2012, I have only worked gigs ever since. The recession was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Losing my cushy job inspired me to think outside the box.
When I got laid off, I had just joined CouchSurfing and had a two-week vacation to Brazil planned. I ended up backpacking through South America for five months and I came back to the United States having grown immensely and with culture shock. We are taught in America that you work like a hamster on the wheel and your reward is your retirement when you’re old and grey, but there’s a world to discover. During my trip, I met so many travellers who weren’t afraid to experience life. That inspired me to come back and never do things the same again. It’s been a learning curve ever since.
At first I was hungry, I didn’t have any money, so I thought that I had always loved teaching people how to surf, I started my own surf business. I had always been a geek on Facebook and Yelp, so I simply learned how to exploit them as a business owner rather than a consumer. This allowed my surf school to become the top-rated in Orange County on Yelp. Although the success didn’t last long, I suddenly realised that the possibilites were limitless. Now I manage Enclave LA, a website about cultural events focusing on communities of colour and immigrants underneath the mainstream radar. It’s my labour of love. It first started spontaneously seven years ago as a group on Facebook, then gradually grew to 4,000 followers and finally became a professional website getting about 10,000 visitors per month. My passion for the niche led me to network with people from various cultural arts organisations here in LA, which is how I got my other gig as a consultative promoter to diversify the audience of the LA Philharmonic and as a social media assistant for the Redcat theatre, an experimental venue based underneath the Walt Disney Concert Hall.
The job that’s making me more money right now is the one I’m less enthusiastic about: I work as a field technician for an architectural engineering company. Is it my passion? Is it what I want to do? No, but gigging also means that you have to accept a job that you don’t necessarily love but that is going to help keep you afloat so that you can dedicate yourself to work you prefer. Before I got this job I worried that I would become homeless and I would have to sleep in my car. I was lucky to find one of the few rent-controlled apartments in LA. I live in Boyle Heights, a traditionally diverse, working-class neighbourhood east of downtown LA. Everyone I know here is working two or three jobs to survive .
Obviously, I don’t get sick leave and I’m not sure if I could take a vacation. I have to always be careful and think two steps ahead. Also, since I work four jobs, I’m probably not as healthy as I should be. I average about five hours of sleep per night and eat on the go a lot. At the same time, gigging is so empowering, because I can change things that aren’t working well on the fly, be independent and constantly proactive. I’m a little hungrier, I can’t afford things I used to afford, but the things I can afford I certainly appreciate more. My goal is to never go back to the nine-to-five routine… unless I have to. AP
Francesca Ros, 26, Turin
Kindergarten worker, babysitter, cook
I have never had a traditional full-time job. The only workplace stability I had was collaborating for four years with a co-operative that manages a private kindergarten and a playing space for children at weekends. I loved the job, it was varied and rewarding: from face painting to book readings, from designing cooking workshops to updating the company’s Facebook page.
My contract would naturally end every year in July, so that I wouldn’t get holiday pay or unemployment benefits. However, every year in October the managers would contact me again to offer a new collaboration.
I didn’t have any rights. If I was sick and I had to stay at home, I would lose the working day and I wouldn’t get paid; if I had to take a university exam, I could ask for a day off, but I would again lose those hours of work and not be remunerated. At the same time, I had relatively steady pay and I was registered with INPS [the Italian social security system], which made me look reliable in the eyes of my bank and landlord.
It all ended abruptly last spring. I was called in for a meeting on 24 April, where the managers announced that 26 April would be my last day of work, as the co-op was going through financial hardship. A few months later, they offered me [the chance] to collaborate with them again – every now and then and on a freelance basis, which means that I now rent their space to organise my own cooking workshops for the kids and their parents.
When people ask me what I do, I’m never sure how to describe it exactly. I tend to answer “many things”. I have been a professional babysitter ever since I was 19. I also make objects out of play dough and clay. The bistro owner living next to my parents commissions me to make freebies for her favourite customers: keychains, magnets, earrings, necklaces and mini-pastries – she calls them “wearable delights”.
Sara, my cousin’s hairdresser, asked me to make hundreds of tiny roses for her wedding hairstyles. I love cooking, so last summer I collaborated with a famous bakery in Turin, making 2,250 biscuits of all shapes and sizes every week, and I regularly make muffins and cupcakes for a friend of mine who owns a cafe.
It’s difficult to think positively about my situation. I keep busy but I have to constantly juggle different gigs every day (sometimes I start working at 7.30am and I get home after midnight). What scares me the most is that I have no guarantees, no steady pay, no stability. Everything could end overnight, so I can never make long-term plans. For example, I had to recently move back in with my parents.
I currently work seven days a week to make €750 (£525) per month and I would earn a lot more doing a more traditional job with a traditional employment contract, but these arrangements are a rarity these days.
At 26, I would love to be able to secure a job that grants me the possibility of becoming a mother. My hope is to find a position that pays for maternity leave so that I could finally stop looking after other parents’ children and teach my own kids how to bake, shape and create all the things that make me feel alive – in my spare time. AP
Delphine Jones, 31
Freelance illustrator/graphic designer, theatre programmer, arts marketer
The majority of people I know have several jobs rather than one. The economy has necessitated that. There’s been a shift away from the idea of a person having a career for 20-plus years. Now it’s about people having 10 different careers in their lifetime and wearing lots of different hats. After studying illustration at university – my first love is graphic design – I was temping.
Eventually I got a job doing marketing for an arts organisation. I was there for five years; it was a way into something connected with the arts. I then went down to a smaller number of days and took on a part-time contract to produce an arts festival. Now, I have three jobs – freelance graphic design, illustration (including one day a week maternity cover doing marketing and design for an arts organisation), and programming for the Lyric theatre in Bridport, one day a week. It’s a wonderful contrast to my design work. We are a team of three – all artists – that work very well together. As the theatre is only in its infancy (four years old), it’s very exciting developing its potential and programme. I do try and fit in a full-time job there in one day a week – it’s hard work. Having various jobs on the go means that you never have a chance to get bored and every week holds lots of variety. When people ask me what I do, if I sense they’re after a quick answer, I just say a graphic designer. Otherwise, if they seem genuinely interested, I tell them all three.
Losing the benefits of full-time employment was definitely a consideration, but only one organisation that I worked for offered a pension, because they were all so small-scale. I’m conscious of losing the regular monthly salary – at first I made less money than I did, but not now – and the atmosphere of being with colleagues. The biggest worry is not knowing where the next job will come from. It’s reassuring to know that this is the same for a lot of people. So far – touch wood – work has been constant and I feel relaxed about it. I think that to start with, my parents might have had initial concerns, but I think it is probably quite a different way of working from when they were my age.
My partner and I aren’t worried about buying a house quite yet, so it hasn’t affected my living situation. I rent in a village by the sea. PE
Harry Campbell, 28, Los Angeles
Blogger, taxi driver for Uber and Lyft
My interest in Uber began in 2012, when I first used the service as a passenger. I would chat to the drivers who would tell me about how much they were earning. It sounded like a pretty easy and flexible gig to me.
I was working as a structural engineer at Boeing at the time. I’d been there six years before “retiring” to focus on my blog (The Rideshare Guy) and podcast full time. I started RSG right around the time I gave my first Uber ride. I knew there was a huge business opportunity to provide in-depth and valuable content around what it is like to be a driver for one of these services. I supplement that work with freelance shifts for Uber and Lyft. I also work on a freelance basis for delivery services such as Postmates and DoorDash.
I enjoyed my day job at Boeing but it wasn’t something I was passionate about. I was planning on working for at least a few more years but my site started getting so much traffic, it was hard to manage both at the same time. I now spend around 40-50 hours per week working on the blog, creating content for rideshare drivers around the world and I do work for Uber and Lyft because I enjoy it. I like the extra money and it helps me with material for my blog.
Most of my friends don’t work for themselves, but I think more and more people are starting to see the value in being their own boss. As a freelance for Uber, for example, I value the flexibility. Being able to work to your own schedule is such a bonus, being able to pick the best hours for you. So much better than, say, working at McDonald’s where you have to fall into a set schedule.
In the short term, this way of working works, but there is a long-term downside. It’s very difficult to build a future, to save for a downpayment on a house, say, or to save for college fund, on a full-time Uber driver salary or even if you combine multiple freelance services.
The current model works well for companies such as Uber since they save up to 30% on labour costs and shift a lot of the business risk to drivers. They don’t need to pay healthcare or provide employment benefits. In the short term, it works for drivers, but in the long term it’s worrying to think that other companies will take on this piecemeal business model. I think it works out better for the companies than the drivers. PE
Kate Feld, 42, Greater Manchester
Digital marketer, copy editor, lecturer, event host, writer
You grow up with this idea of going to university, getting a job… but you have to make peace with the fact that that’s not how it’s going to be now. The last full-time job I had was in 2003 – I was an assistant editor on the national desk at the Associated Press in New York. I moved to the UK after I fell in love with a Brit. For years, I didn’t have much anxiety around that, as my partner was in full-time employment on a good salary with a solid pension, so I was insulated from money and security worries.
Now I do a portfolio of jobs: digital marketing, copy editing and hosting events for the Manchester literature society. I lecture at the University of Salford, write fiction and do a food and drink column. Shareable tech such as Google docs and Skype has meant that although I live in a little village, I’ve worked for people in the US.
It’s exhilarating but also scary. I don’t know if I can get a mortgage because my work life is in flux. I don’t own my own house, I rent. I don’t have a pension, I can’t afford the expensive skin cream that I used to enjoy. I have two children, aged five and seven. This way of working has allowed me to be around for them. When I split with my partner earlier this year, I looked at full-time roles and considered applying for one that came up in my field, which I was qualified for, with a big organisation. I talked it over with my dad and a couple of close friends and thought about it seriously, but from the beginning I had a vague feeling of “not right” about it. When I thought about it, the higher salary, pension and security didn’t seem so attractive when I considered that I would have to put my children in childcare around the clock, give up all of the ongoing part-time roles (with the literature festival, lecturing etc), which I really enjoy, and end up with very little time or flexibility for my own writing and independent creative projects. PE
Miranda Hudson, 40
Airbnb host, charity worker, interior designer
I love the flexibility of not being tied to one job. I’ve done all sorts of things, from costumier to styling to running a photography studio. I bought a house when I was 27 – it was cheap but in very bad repair, so I took a punt and decided to become a developer when I bought it and I retrained as an interior designer. I was lucky [to get a mortgage while freelancing] – in 2004 they were giving them away, which is probably why it led to [the crash in] 2008. Now the housing situation in London is ridiculous.
I took to doing Airbnb while I was on maternity leave and it transformed my outlook on what I could get done. I live with my husband and three-year-old daughter in a two-bed and my office is outside in the garden, in a shed from Argos. The guests stay upstairs in a separate living area. During the week, I have regular guests who commute into London and need a base; at weekends we seem to be the go-to hen do place in London: we probably host about 40 hen weekends a year. It’s not as debauched as you’d think: it’s normally eight to 10 women and often three generations come along. I have a vetting process: out of 500 or so bookings, I’ve probably had two occasions where the guests weren’t quite my cup of tea.
The financial stability allows me to give my time voluntarily for something I believe in. At the moment, I’m transitioning from interiors to charity work. I’ve been working for Snehalaya for six years, which provides rescue, refuge and rehabilitation for women and children in rural India, often for people who have been trafficked or are in the sex industry. This year I’ve gone full time, about 40 hours a week.
I have a lot of friends in similar working arrangements, especially in the food industry, theatre and events; my husband is a brewer and has done some startup restaurants. I definitely advocate this way of working, but it’s not for the faint-hearted – if you’re working three or four jobs in a day, you need to be very disciplined and have a keen sense of priority. You have to be a bit of a workaholic: finding the balance and boundaries to fit everything in can be a bit of a juggle. And obviously not having paid time off is a downside. But it is rewarding: you get to see your dreams come into reality, that’s the real payoff. KB
