FEB 6, 2025 | OPINION | By Esa George
So, are we in agreement then?
We both dedicated a portion of our day to this. Didn’t we both conclude with the same shrill “It was nice to meet you” or “Thanks for finding the time to talk to me (us) today?” Whatever it is, I end the Zoom call or leave the Microsoft Team call with a face emitting the sign of a cringe. I sit in front of my computer and say “Oh well,” even though I am not an “oh well” person.
Perhaps, I convince myself, it’s how we cope. So far, an interview has never quite worked in my favor, and I find the other side of the call unwilling to return their end of the favor, choosing silence over a reasonable explanation of why they did not give you the job.
In a time when feedback is crucial for me, it does not sit right with me anymore as a senior with four months left of knowing what I’ll be doing in the foreseeable future, especially after so many interviews with the same result, often even being ghosted after a seemingly pleasant conversation.
Look, I don’t think we should hang out or try to find things in which we have in common. I am not trying to be your best friend, dear interviewer, yet I want to know what you think made me a good enough fit to be interviewed; I’d love to expand on what you’re interested in. It is frightening to walk into a potentially dead-end conversation, so I research the company. I wouldn’t have applied for something unless I really saw myself in the role.
So why is it my job, on my end, to make sense of never receiving closure with professionals who most certainly have the time in their busy days to show someone who put themselves out there some courtesy? What do you want to know about me beyond my cover letter reassuring you that I am fit for a job? I’d be happy to tell you.
I have come to realize that just because someone is conducting an interview does not mean they are the penultimate professional. Sometimes, they are just plain bad at establishing their own understanding of what they are looking for in this role, and that’s awkward, so I am going to ramble to try to answer their question. Then they’ll say, “It sounds like you are the perfect fit for this job,” and “I’m sure we all have felt this way, Esabella.” Misleading, no?
A few weeks ago, I fought the urge within me to compliment the “Speak Now (Taylor’s Version)” vinyl peeking from behind one of my interviewer’s closet doors. After the call and not hearing word back from them for four weeks now, I have debated back and forth whether or not I should have said something about the vinyl, even if it could have been deemed cringe. Or trying too hard, or being unprofessional.
But then I decided, much to my dismay, that anyone who has a Taylor Swift vinyl behind them in the room where they conduct interviews for aspiring interns is probably asking you to notice it. Isn’t that the thing with Swifties? I probably should have. Maybe she went ahead with another, more unapologetically “themself” kind-of intern.
In truth, I felt betrayed and disrespected by this company, having spent days preparing for a position that they were not good at interviewing for. Not even hearing a word from them regarding my follow-up email left me feeling obnoxious, like a bothersome burden. I started to question how I present myself to strangers, and it got me down. And I wished they would have shown me what is unique about the highly-esteemed leading publisher they work for. But no one could answer the question.
But maybe it’s not that complicated; if someone has nothing discernable among their un-blurred background besides a Taylor Swift vinyl, they probably want to work with an intern who also likes that, even if this intern had never used the computer programming tools they asked if I had used before, which weren’t listed in the job description.
An interview in December, in which I made it to the final round of 12 applicants from a pool of 100+, went really well. I nailed the final question where I was asked what I was reading currently and how I would pitch the book to potential readers. We ended the call with the two interviewers remarking that this was one of the “finest answers” they’d received. Ten days later, they went ahead with another applicant.
To cope, I tell myself it was that and not the follow-up email I sent three hours after our interview, where I outlined our talking points and cleared up a few things I wished I had expanded on further. They probably did not read all of that — as per the meme.
Why do you hang up and continue stringing me along? Why have my two emails, requesting they give me feedback, telling them the thing I just interviewed for was exactly what I wanted, gone unread? I must have missed my opportunity to let them get to know the same me they’d spend hours a day with, the me who could make them laugh, and have them feel secure in giving work to someone who is still learning. How can we earn work experience in this field if the leading qualifications are two or three years of experience in related fields? Are you starting to see the problem too?
I came across a LinkedIn post that validated this feeling of dejection, titled “Let’s talk about interview ghosting.” Malakiyah Hasan says, “As a job applicant, we put in time and effort to craft professional applications, prepare for interviews, and engage respectfully with potential employers. Yet, when the process ends in silence, it feels dismissive and demoralizing.”
Hasan concludes with a plea to companies: “Companies, I urge you:
Even if an applicant doesn’t make the cut, take a moment to send a rejection email. This small gesture shows respect and professionalism. You never know how paths may cross in the future — today’s rejected candidate could be tomorrow’s business partner, client, or even employer.”
I think a company could help themselves and their reputation by showing applicants who need a job some respect. Send me an email, respond to a request for feedback from an applicant. If they begin to annoy you, as I hope to never do, just let them know it’s not a thing your company practices: respect and professionalism.