The federal government is pretty obnoxious in a lot of ways, but I’ve found one teeny tiny facet of my life that it seems to understand. But first, here’s a mini rant.
Right now it’s job application season for summer, and jobs with USGS or USFWS require that you apply through this annoying website called usajobs.gov. Essentially it removes all human contact from applying for jobs. It also requires that you stretch the truth on a questionnaire if you want any chance of making it past the first cut.
For this questionnaire, answers range from:
- I know nothing about this subject.
- I’ve received an education on this subject.
- I’ve performed this task on the job with immediate supervision.
- I’ve performed this task on the job without supervision.
- I’m an expert and people come to me for advice on dealing with this subject.
Obviously as a field technician, I’ve had supervision for most of the tasks in question. However, there’s no chance at getting my next job if I answer honestly like that. After getting nowhere with offers for even just interviews on USAJobs, I began asking federal employees for their input. I’ve also asked former employers about how to rank myself, and I’ve been told to consider myself an “expert” in anything I’ve done on the job. “Otherwise you’ll never make it past stage 1.” HA!
Right, that’s enough of a rant on that side of the federal government’s job application process. Here’s the part I quite appreciate:
When asked for an address, there’s a button you can click for “what if I don’t have an address?” Brilliant!! The feds actually acknowledge that wildlife technicians like me, as well as people in other fields, may not have a home. Those of you with home bases don’t understand how complicated it is to answer the question “where do you you live?” or “what’s your mailing address?” when you’ve had roughly 4 mailing addresses in the last year. (And to think, that’s a pretty low number!)
In Fairbanks I’m the proud renter of a storage unit. Whenever I appear in town, it’s a lot of fun to stop by the homestead and visit my possessions, trade out the past 4 months’ 5 shirts for a new variety, and force myself to get rid of pure stuff. I stay on friends’ futons and floors; sometimes I’m fortunate enough to housesit and have access to puppies, a car, running water, internet, and a place to think of as mine for a few weeks.
When I took my tent down from field camp this last summer, I first thought, “Well, I’m officially homeless again!”
Living on the go can be annoying, but I save a lot of money on rent and stay free to have adventures. Even if the government doesn’t understand anything else about life, at least they understand some of us don’t live anywhere.