I still remember those overwhelming emotions when I first arrived in Sydney: excitement, adventure, wonder, gratification, uncertainty.... here I was, settling in the most iconic city in the Southern Hemisphere - thousands of miles from home - christening a new start and a new chapter in the novel of life.
I had spent the last seven months in the humid island of Taiwan, learning Mandarin, immersing myself in their culture, and laboring away as a part-time English teacher. In my heart, however, I understood this wasn't, and would never be, my calling - by February, I knew it was time to leave. With nowhere else to turn, I decided to reignite my interest in finance and devise my return to the West.
Honestly, I hunted for jobs with a fervor I missed for years; I almost exclusively resided in coffee shops, searching online for hours and hours (unless I was interrupted by an attractive girl or something); I continuously revised and enhanced my resume, chasing the elusiveness of perfection; I sent email after email, cover letter after cover letter, and application after application. Soon, I rediscovered why I majored in Economics, and why I wanted so badly to pursue a career in finance in the first place: I sincerely enjoyed the work.
One afternoon, I stumbled upon an investment bank which took interest in me.... based in Sydney. It was the opportunity of a lifetime - work at an investment bank AND travel to Australia. I paused to wipe the drool off my chin. The opportunity was simple: beginning mid-April, I would intern for three months unpaid and, if I performed well, they agreed to sponsor a work visa (Subclass 457) and grant me a full-time position.
After much deliberation and careful scrutiny, I finally committed to traveling Down Under and exhausting all my abilities to achieve my goals. I simply couldn't ignore the chance to achieve these dreams.
-
New Beginnings -
Seventeen hours and two timezones later, I arrived in Sydney ecstatic and spent the next few days preparing for work and reuniting with Australian friends I previously made. Ultimately, for the entire duration of the internship, I stayed with a close friend from university. Although I struggled to part with some great friends in Taipei, I knew inside we would meet again:
"Even though we've changed and we're all finding our own place in the world, we all know that when the tears fall or the smile spreads across our face, we'll come to each other because no matter where this crazy world takes us, nothing will ever change so much to the point where we're not all still friends."
-Anonymous
I journeyed to the Central Business District the following Monday morning, gazing at the twists of steel and concrete above. The city beamed with life - I could sense the electricity of the atmosphere and the echos from the streets. Armed with a new suit, pocket square, and a slick haircut, I marched towards Chifley Tower, prepared to battle and obtain victory. Entranced by the marble halls of the lobby, I found an elevator and exited at the twenty-ninth floor foyer.
The view was breathtaking: stretching from the Oprea House, the Royal Botanical Gardens, all the way to the Eastern Suburbs, Sydney was clear and bright - I could've seen the edge of the Earth. I excitedly awaited my start when, suddenly, an employee entered and told me the office was in a different location.
I never went to Chifley Tower again.
This employee - younger than me, yet also an intern - led me through the streets of Sydney until we reached a tiny office near Circular Quay. Stepping through the glass doors, the company of four employees greeted me with a Vietnam-War-version of a Hero's Welcome: silence, awkward stares, and a pervading sense of confusion. To add insult to injury, the personnel shared quite an impolite and impersonal coexistence. However, I was determined to attain success, so strove to learn and assist in all aspects.
That was Monday.
On Tuesday, I entered the office and met the company's newest intern - who began THAT day - and another girl had already interned for a few months. The situation became more bizarre: the company had four full-time employees matched with
four interns. As for duties and responsibilities, I had none; the manager gave me very useless tasks to complete, which I easily finished before lunch.
I remember voicing slight concern because the company so vastly misrepresented itself through their website to a coworker two years my younger. He said, voice cracking with discouragement, "don't be mislead by the website; it got me, too."
Fortunately, the office closed from Thursday to Monday for Good Friday, Easter, and ANZAC Day. Meanwhile, the company planned to transition to a new office, so I hoped for some encouraging signs.
-
"What Goes Up Must Come Down" -
The power of the written-word sometimes possesses the strength of sword, painstakingly forged with layers upon layers of steel. Late-Thursday night, I opened an email from my manager, the electronic equivalent of a letterbomb:
Because of the small size of the new office, there was no physical space for me. I could no longer work with the company, effective May 5th.
I hadn't worked an entire business week, and they already squeezed me out. I felt extremely dejected and, honestly, quite embarrassed. The following Tuesday, I explained my situation to a coworker (the one disappointed about the website), and he asked:
"Have you started looking for other jobs?"
"No, I was really dedicated on working here."
"But they said there's no room for you, right?"
"Yeah...?"
"I'd look for work."
I somberly returned home on my final day and felt disoriented regarding my current situation and my immediate future. What the fuck should I do? Should I go? Should I stay? How could I tell all the friends and family, who so-generously congratulated me, my company terminated me after a week?
I vividly recall craving a beer.
In the following weeks, I fielded a few frequently asked questions:
"Is that legal??"
"Didn't they know you were coming??"
"How small is their new office??"
"He didn't even call to tell you??"
To quote a friend from Seattle: "Wowie wow wow."
-
Picking Up The Pieces -
It took some time - and some stern convincing - but I decided to search for opportunities once again. With a new approach, I contacted any financial company even-slightly related to investment banking, corporate finance, advisory, or capital markets; I sent emails, made phone calls, and submitted applications, yet I still confronted a range of obstacles: I lacked experience, I could not legally work in Australia (I came with a basic tourist visa), and most-of-all, companies were not hiring.
Internally, I also struggled to overcome the powerful feelings of discouragement, cynicism, frustration, and worst-of-all, resentment. At times, I wanted to give up; I longed for simpler times in Taiwan and pondered my return to America. Other times, I exhibited overwhelming frustration with the job market, Australia, my previous employer(s), and/or whatever scapegoats I could get my hands on. Still worse were the times - and I detest to admit it - where I even experienced jealousy and bitterness towards others.
Look, I don't claim to be a saint; nowhere near it. I frequently grapple with my poor programming, unforgotten experiences, and reckless habits - that should be expected. But we all have the opportunity to improve ourselves and a choice over our response to different stimuli. I won't dwell too much on this, but believe me - we really do.
Afterward, my life became a blur; I lost track of the day, the date, the time, and where my days went. My daily schedule usually resembled:
Wake Up.
Turn on computer.
Search for jobs.
Email companies.
Send resumes.
Make calls.
I actually managed to escape the house - three days a week, I went to the gym (it gave me a good reason to change out of my pajamas). I'd still attempt to play and relax on the weekends, but in the blink of an eye, it was already late-May, and I was still jobless.
-
"Hey Brother, Can You Spare A [Job]?" -
As fate would have it, my luck began changing.
One morning, a company I previously contacted asked if I could visit them for a chat.
My heart raced: was this the break I so desperately sought? Hoping for the best and bracing for the worst, I cautiously journeyed to their office to demonstrate my value and give my all. Stepping through the doors, I noticed an enormous contrast to my previous company - this office flowed with life and energy: employees paced about, executing transactions on their headsets, high-definition televisions relayed financial news, computer screens flickered with quotes and trades.... it actually resembled a trading-floor.
I spoke with the Managing Director, Tom, and he suggested I begin as an intern - unpaid, of course - for the remainder of my tourist visa; if I performed well, they would apply to sponsor me for a Subclass 457 Visa. I could only oblige; at least with this company, I had a slim chance.
The very next day, I performed my duties: I called hundreds of new contacts to create leads, also known as "cold-calling." Inexperienced and disorganized, I struggled and returned home worried this internship concealed a hidden déjà vu. Nevertheless, I yearned to succeed, searched for information regarding cold-calling, and aimed to improve my abilities.
By week's-end, I successfully demonstrated an eagerness to learn - much to the delight of my superiors - and gathered more confidence towards my work and future. Although my responsibilities fluctuated over time, I continued to labor with positivity and zeal. With less than a month remaining on my visa (mid-June), I inquired about the possibility of a sponsorship and received only delayed and ambiguous responses.
After much coaxing, Tom decided to speak on a Monday evening with a broker and budding friend, Peter, who worked with the company since its inception, regarding the decision. I would receive the answer on Wednesday via email because Tom would be traveling to Singapore.
On Tuesday, Peter explained it was "really unlikely" the company would sponsor me; he expressed concern that the salary would be too high and did not want me to be "taken for a ride." With this new reality, he recommended I should "enjoy the rest of [my] time here."
I left by lunch.
-
Unemployment Now Redux -
After those unpleasantries, I browsed for flights back to Los Angeles. And using a legal pad I stole from work, I started brainstorming below a scribbled title, "WHAT DO I WANT TO DO??:
Keep Traveling -> how?
Problems:
1. I'm running out of money
2. I'm tired of failing
Solutions:
1. Find a job (where?)
2. Start a business
3. Go back to Korea?
4. Go back to Taiwan?
It didn't look great. But, of course, things would change once again.
-
Advance Anthony Fair! -
Thursday afternoon, surrounded by the echos of a Westfield's food-court, I received a call from an unrecognized number: the man identified himself as my Managing Director and asked, "why aren't you at work?"
During our conversation, I calmly articulated my displeasure with the situation and explained my dedication to execute any tasks with relentlessness, if hired. In response, Tom petitioned me to return to work and begin training, but I refused - I demanded to know if I would be sponsored. He answered:
"It's pretty much a yes. I mean, I wouldn't have people waste time to train you if we didn't want you.... Look, I think you would make a great stockbroker."
Several smiles and kind words greeted me as I returned to work on Friday.
We agreed to straightforward conditions: the company would sponsor my visa and I would work as a Deals Assistant, obtain my RG146 (a financial credential), and transition to stockbroking. They requested a police check and copies of my passport, diploma, and letters of recommendations, and I happily obliged. Meanwhile, they labored to create a job description and formulate a contract.
News spread throughout social circles and congratulations trickled in from friends and family, alike. New concerns emerged: finding an apartment, studying for stockbroking courses, and devising my budget.... good problems to have, indeed. The company submitted (in Australia, they use the term, "lodge") their applications - sponsorship and nomination - on June 30th.
We soon discovered it contained glaring errors.
-
"[Sydney], We Have A Problem." -
On the Fourth of July, with ninety-five-percent of my application completed, I revisited the Department of Immigration's website to verify a few figures, but something was amiss - the numbers had changed.
Unbeknownst to us, the government increased the minimum salary for 457 Visa candidates by almost 2,000 AUD, effective July 1st. Subclass 457 Visa laws stipulate a candidate's salary must
match or exceed a minimum threshold and the nominated occupation must originate from a pre-approved ANZSCO (Australia and New Zealand Standard Classification of Occupations) list. The company breached both rules, requiring them to amend their nomination.
The woman conducting Human Resources, Lisa, explained that salary and occupation changes required approval from Tom. Simple enough, right?
Then things turned for the worse.
On Thursday, July 7th, fictitious allegations from competitors surfaced, which persuaded a prominent provider to terminate services and withdraw all accounts. The resulting hysteria caused an estimated thirty-percent loss in revenue in
one day. By late-afternoon, the directors addressed all personnel about the emergency and their protocol moving forward. Sadly, my appeal for a change in my visa disappeared in the frenzy. Although my tourist visa ceased on July 12th, I transitioned to a Bridging Visa after lodging my application on the eleventh.
I waited six more days.
Finally, on Wednesday morning, I spoke with Tom and Lisa regarding amendments to their nomination application, and they finalized their decision:
In light of the new difficulties, they withdrew their sponsorship offer and declined to amend the incorrect information on their nomination application.
It was eleven o'clock.
I left at twelve.
-
"Stay Hungry. Stay Foolish." -
At this moment, I have not yet purchased my return flight, but I know I will depart soon. The past few days evaporated quickly, but I strove to make them invaluable. I haven't a clue when I will return to Australia, but perhaps more-importantly, I haven't a clue what I will do when I return to Los Angeles.
On a superficial level, this debacle cost me several thousand dollars, months of wasted effort, vast amounts of frustration, and - maybe - an ulcer or two. But upon detailed inspection, although I failed to achieve my dreams, I advanced bravely and thoroughly into my life. Was it worth it? Only time will tell.
I titled this entry,
Dreams Matter, because the more I live, the more I realize it is absolutely and utterly undeniable; our relentless and unapologetic ability to dream motivates and fuels our spirit. Catastrophes can plunder almost everything: your job, your house, your children, your loved ones; but you shall always possess your dreams and your ability to dream.
Until my dying day, I will vehemently refuse to accept that humans should achieve anything less.
Sweet dreams.
*Each person's name has been changed to protect their identity.... I'm not looking to get sued.
