Junior People, Are We Okay?

No entry-level. No ladder. Just vibes and layoffs.

Junior People, Are We Okay?

No entry-level. No ladder. Just vibes and layoffs.

Junior People, Are We Okay?

No entry-level. No ladder. Just vibes and layoffs.

This episode will cover:

Doing the undoable is the only way to build the future

I graduated into a pandemic. Everything moved to Zoom while entry-level hiring stalled behind portals that never replied. Then came layoffs, then AI, then the sense that every month another crisis would knock the floor out from under me. There is no entry-level anymore. No ladder to climb. Just vibes and layoffs. It feels like showing up to a party that is already over.

If the system has no clear place for me, then I have to make one. That means showing agency without permission, using new tools even while they are unstable, and creating projects no one asked for.

Maybe the job now is to be a one-person team. To attempt the impossible, to take on work that feels too big, to prove that things can still be made in the middle of collapse. That is how we find each other. That is how purpose begins.

Community is not optional. Building is not a nice extra, it is survival. To make it through, we have to create something worth gathering around, and maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Junior people are not okay. But the future can still be different. What we have left is agency, taste, and community, and that has to be enough to build from.

It makes me feel hopeful in a way. Because in a party where no one is welcoming me, no place to stay, I see a new door opening. A door that shows there are new ways of doing things, and in a way we have to.

For me, that has meant leaning on AI. This entire site, the research, the visuals, the stretch of ideas, would not exist without it. I could not have made all of this alone. That is one possibility of what it means to be "junior" right now.

The work is to use the tools to do the undoable. To make projects before anyone asks for them. To prove that something new can exist.

And that is what gives me hope. Because if the old rooms are closed, we can create our own. A new space. A new rule. Or no rule at all when it comes to creativity.

This episode will cover:

Doing the undoable is the only way to build the future

I graduated into a pandemic. Everything moved to Zoom while entry-level hiring stalled behind portals that never replied. Then came layoffs, then AI, then the sense that every month another crisis would knock the floor out from under me. There is no entry-level anymore. No ladder to climb. Just vibes and layoffs. It feels like showing up to a party that is already over.

If the system has no clear place for me, then I have to make one. That means showing agency without permission, using new tools even while they are unstable, and creating projects no one asked for.

Maybe the job now is to be a one-person team. To attempt the impossible, to take on work that feels too big, to prove that things can still be made in the middle of collapse. That is how we find each other. That is how purpose begins.

Community is not optional. Building is not a nice extra, it is survival. To make it through, we have to create something worth gathering around, and maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Junior people are not okay. But the future can still be different. What we have left is agency, taste, and community, and that has to be enough to build from.

It makes me feel hopeful in a way. Because in a party where no one is welcoming me, no place to stay, I see a new door opening. A door that shows there are new ways of doing things, and in a way we have to.

For me, that has meant leaning on AI. This entire site, the research, the visuals, the stretch of ideas, would not exist without it. I could not have made all of this alone. That is one possibility of what it means to be "junior" right now.

The work is to use the tools to do the undoable. To make projects before anyone asks for them. To prove that something new can exist.

And that is what gives me hope. Because if the old rooms are closed, we can create our own. A new space. A new rule. Or no rule at all when it comes to creativity.

This episode will cover:

Doing the undoable is the only way to build the future

I graduated into a pandemic. Everything moved to Zoom while entry-level hiring stalled behind portals that never replied. Then came layoffs, then AI, then the sense that every month another crisis would knock the floor out from under me. There is no entry-level anymore. No ladder to climb. Just vibes and layoffs. It feels like showing up to a party that is already over.

If the system has no clear place for me, then I have to make one. That means showing agency without permission, using new tools even while they are unstable, and creating projects no one asked for.

Maybe the job now is to be a one-person team. To attempt the impossible, to take on work that feels too big, to prove that things can still be made in the middle of collapse. That is how we find each other. That is how purpose begins.

Community is not optional. Building is not a nice extra, it is survival. To make it through, we have to create something worth gathering around, and maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Junior people are not okay. But the future can still be different. What we have left is agency, taste, and community, and that has to be enough to build from.

It makes me feel hopeful in a way. Because in a party where no one is welcoming me, no place to stay, I see a new door opening. A door that shows there are new ways of doing things, and in a way we have to.

For me, that has meant leaning on AI. This entire site, the research, the visuals, the stretch of ideas, would not exist without it. I could not have made all of this alone. That is one possibility of what it means to be "junior" right now.

The work is to use the tools to do the undoable. To make projects before anyone asks for them. To prove that something new can exist.

And that is what gives me hope. Because if the old rooms are closed, we can create our own. A new space. A new rule. Or no rule at all when it comes to creativity.

Junior People, Are We Okay?

No entry-level. No ladder. Just vibes and layoffs.

Junior People, Are We Okay?

No entry-level. No ladder. Just vibes and layoffs.

Junior People, Are We Okay?

No entry-level. No ladder. Just vibes and layoffs.

This episode will cover:

Doing the undoable is the only way to build the future

If the system has no clear place for me, then I have to make one. That means showing agency without permission, using new tools even while they are unstable, and creating projects no one asked for.

Maybe the job now is to be a one-person team. To attempt the impossible, to take on work that feels too big, to prove that things can still be made in the middle of collapse. That is how we find each other. That is how purpose begins.

Community is not optional. Building is not a nice extra, it is survival. To make it through, we have to create something worth gathering around, and maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Junior people are not okay. But the future can still be different. What we have left is agency, taste, and community, and that has to be enough to build from.

It makes me feel hopeful in a way. Because in a party where no one is welcoming me, no place to stay, I see a new door opening. A door that shows there are new ways of doing things, and in a way we have to.

For me, that has meant leaning on AI. This entire site, the research, the visuals, the stretch of ideas, would not exist without it. I could not have made all of this alone. That is one possibility of what it means to be "junior" right now.

The work is to use the tools to do the undoable. To make projects before anyone asks for them. To prove that something new can exist.

And that is what gives me hope. Because if the old rooms are closed, we can create our own. A new space. A new rule. Or no rule at all when it comes to creativity.

This episode will cover:

Doing the undoable is the only way to build the future

If the system has no clear place for me, then I have to make one. That means showing agency without permission, using new tools even while they are unstable, and creating projects no one asked for.

Maybe the job now is to be a one-person team. To attempt the impossible, to take on work that feels too big, to prove that things can still be made in the middle of collapse. That is how we find each other. That is how purpose begins.

Community is not optional. Building is not a nice extra, it is survival. To make it through, we have to create something worth gathering around, and maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Junior people are not okay. But the future can still be different. What we have left is agency, taste, and community, and that has to be enough to build from.

It makes me feel hopeful in a way. Because in a party where no one is welcoming me, no place to stay, I see a new door opening. A door that shows there are new ways of doing things, and in a way we have to.

For me, that has meant leaning on AI. This entire site, the research, the visuals, the stretch of ideas, would not exist without it. I could not have made all of this alone. That is one possibility of what it means to be "junior" right now.

The work is to use the tools to do the undoable. To make projects before anyone asks for them. To prove that something new can exist.

And that is what gives me hope. Because if the old rooms are closed, we can create our own. A new space. A new rule. Or no rule at all when it comes to creativity.

This episode will cover:

Doing the undoable is the only way to build the future

If the system has no clear place for me, then I have to make one. That means showing agency without permission, using new tools even while they are unstable, and creating projects no one asked for.

Maybe the job now is to be a one-person team. To attempt the impossible, to take on work that feels too big, to prove that things can still be made in the middle of collapse. That is how we find each other. That is how purpose begins.

Community is not optional. Building is not a nice extra, it is survival. To make it through, we have to create something worth gathering around, and maybe that is not such a bad thing.

Junior people are not okay. But the future can still be different. What we have left is agency, taste, and community, and that has to be enough to build from.

It makes me feel hopeful in a way. Because in a party where no one is welcoming me, no place to stay, I see a new door opening. A door that shows there are new ways of doing things, and in a way we have to.

For me, that has meant leaning on AI. This entire site, the research, the visuals, the stretch of ideas, would not exist without it. I could not have made all of this alone. That is one possibility of what it means to be "junior" right now.

The work is to use the tools to do the undoable. To make projects before anyone asks for them. To prove that something new can exist.

And that is what gives me hope. Because if the old rooms are closed, we can create our own. A new space. A new rule. Or no rule at all when it comes to creativity.