Looking for a Job, Donovan Ervin Begins to Find Himself
Last year, Donovan Ervin started a job search that left him feeling paralyzed. A few months out of graduate school—he received dual master’s degrees from Yale in business administration and environmental management—he knew he wanted to help shift the systems of power, influence, and wealth that benefit the privileged few at the expense of equality, justice, and the environment.
But he had a lot of questions: What kind of job would allow him to make the most impact? What kind of workplace would let him apply the full weight of his talent, skills, and perspective? Then there was the tension between his desire for a fulfilling career and a fulfilling life. “How much of myself do I break off for this work?” he wondered. What kind of job would allow him to live comfortably, sustain his health and well-being, love himself, cultivate meaningful relationships, care and provide for his community?
“How do I want to build my life?” he was asking himself.
Ervin’s question is not the one people usually start with when they embark on a job search. Most of us focus on what employers want, and measure success by whether or not we get the job. But when you start by thinking about how you want to build a life, the search can become more valuable than the job itself.
Ervin is still on his job search. His journey, which he generously shared over the course of several conversations from his hometown in Garland, Texas, highlights the importance of job transitions. These are the times when we crack ourselves open, discover who we are, and, if we’re lucky, understand what we need from life and work.
How does this job fit into my life?
Ervin, who turned 32 in January, seems uniquely made for this moment: a kind, reflective, and deeply intelligent man who likes to apply the weight of thought to big challenges. Right now, those challenges are in abundant supply as the U.S. reckons with the pandemic, ongoing racial injustice, growing economic inequality, and a climate emergency.
These are the very issues Ervin seeks to work on, and he’s prepared: For years, he has studied and worked on intersecting issues in racial justice, the environment, and business, and he has dedicated his career to undoing the structural barriers that push a lot of people to the margins. He enrolled in his dual-degree program because he could see how business created systemic social and environmental problems—and he wanted to learn how to shift business to take a lead in solutions.
But in 2020, his job search felt much more consequential—in part because all of these issues are laid bare and he wants to find a job where he can have an impact, and in part because he’s now in his 30s and wants to be more intentional about creating a life. “I have felt it leading to this point, and now it’s here,” he said. “What do I do?”
At the start of his job search, Ervin leaned heavily on the spreadsheets and surveys that the job search industrial complex peddles to smart young grads. “I spent a lot of time building these matrices, doing these surveys, and just trying to get some insights and make sense of this,” Ervin said. “But I was having a lot of difficulty.”
The resources he was using were aimed at providing pat answers, but Ervin needed to spend time sitting with more complex questions:
What if working on big challenges required more of himself than he wanted to give? He wants to start a family and spend time with his people and community, ideally in Texas, where most of his family lives. “This moment has emerged, but how much of it is what I want, versus what the moment calls for, versus what I think I will need in the next 5, 10, 15 years?” he wondered.
Then there’s the question of which field he should enter: He wondered whether he should take a position in philanthropy, leaning into his strengths and aligning with likeminded people who are also working on systems change, or if he should get a heavy-hitting finance job, building his own power, influence, and wealth to change business from the inside.
“I’m also torn with where I can add value in any of those spaces: What can I do to contribute to the work and to have impact?” he asked.
Like many job-seekers, Ervin is also grappling with questions about how much money is enough: How much does he need to earn, given his age, the lifestyle he wants, and the wealth he wants to build for his future, his family, and his community?
Significantly, as a Black man, he wonders about his responsibility to his community. In an essay Ervin wrote last year, “A Black Man Who Happened to Graduate from Yale,” he reflected on this question: “I honor the strength, resilience, love, and sacrifice of my Ancestors, whose blood dances in my veins. I carry them with me. My children will know a different reality. But it’s complicated.”
Ervin was one of just 13 Black students of the 500 people enrolled in his programs. “This moment is significant, a BFD,” he wrote. “I sense the gravity of this moment,” he went on. “I’m aware of my responsibilities to my Ancestors and to my community. I’m scared. I feel uncertain about which path is the most noble, which step is right.”
With the support of his family and friends, as well as his mentors and coach, Ervin decided to rethink how he was doing his search. What if rather than trying to solve the complexity, he held space for it? “I have this opportunity to make some choices about right now, and there’s a real gift in that moment,” he said. This transition has been dominated by his job search, but what if he asked the question differently?
“How does the job fit into my life?” he asked.
The world needs people who have come alive
The second time we spoke, Ervin was sitting outside a friend’s place in front of a magnificent live oak, a tree that got its name because it looks green and full of life all year long. Ervin’s smile radiated through the Zoom camera. He seemed at peace.
Ervin had gotten a job offer, and while he felt grateful for it, he was getting ready to turn it down. He said that when he initially applied for the job, he felt afraid, even a little desperate. He never expected to finish his degrees in the middle of a pandemic with the economy in a massive recession. His health insurance from Yale had lapsed, he was living at home, and he felt an urgency to get a job and a paycheck. But since applying for that job, he had picked up some contract work, which lessened his financial anxiety and gave him the space to think about the question he posed at the end of our last conversation—about how a job would fit into his life.
He also set aside his spreadsheets and picked up some books that offered what he called timeless wisdom. He was rereading Martin Luther King, Jr.’s Strength to Love, a compilation of sermons that made Ervin think about his own spirituality. He grew up in the church but hasn’t practiced religion formally since college. The book reminded him of the scripture he learned as a child. “It’s the notion of love as a guiding force, a guiding idea,” he said. “The greatest commandment is to love God with all of your strength, mind, heart, and soul, and the second is to love your neighbor as yourself.”
To Ervin, this pursuit of love is the first step in any journey. “Seek ye first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you,” said Ervin. “So it’s like: Seek this love thing first, and all the other stuff—the material things that I have fixated on—will become clearer.” Ervin started thinking: “Which job puts me in the best position to be loving, to love?”
Then Ervin read something by Howard Thurman, one of King’s mentors, that grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him in the way that big truths often do: “Don’t ask yourself what the world needs. Ask yourself what makes you come alive, and then go do that. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive.”
Ervin decided to let this question guide his search: “How do I love myself enough to do the things that bring me to life, that bring me energy—that allow the power to flow through me so that my cup is being filled and I’m able to serve others meaningfully?”
What do I want to be true about my life?
For Ervin, the start of 2021 felt heavy. His birthday at the end of January reminded him that he’s getting older. He and his partner had split up. He had been doing a lot of contract work, and liked the flexibility, but he also realized he wanted the stability of a full-time job. He had gotten another job offer, but the responsibilities and pay were entry-level, far beneath his qualifications and needs. “I was shook,” he said. “Is this the value that I’m bringing to the market? It threw me for a loop.” Then there was the upcoming one-year anniversary of the global pandemic. “That was a low point,” he said.
So Ervin booked into an Airbnb for a weekend away to grieve, heal, and reset. He also took time to think about the community he wants to be part of when the world opens up again—an idea he borrowed from Mia Birdsong’s book, How We Show Up: Reclaiming Family, Friendship, and Community. He wants to intentionally build community, which he described as a “lived environment”—a place where he lives close to people he cares about, and cares about the people he lives close to. He imagines sharing meals, looking after each other’s kids and homes when folks are away, checking in on one another during winter storms, like the one that devastated parts of Texas in February.
Recently, Ervin’s coach invited him to do a visioning exercise, writing about what he wants to be true about his life when he turns 40.
Ervin wrote about love: having a life partner to travel and cook with, in a relationship in which they can both evolve and support each other. He wrote about family: developing deeper relationships with his biological family and repairing relationships that he wants to heal. He wrote about prioritizing his own health, well-being, and rest and developing a spiritual practice. He wrote about community: volunteering as a basketball coach or tutor or mentor, and maybe getting involved in local politics.
And he wrote about having the kind of work that allows him to feel professionally fulfilled while having the time and space for a rich life. “I work 40 to 50 hours a week, and at the end of the day, I sign off and I do other things that bring me joy,” he said. “I don't work on the weekends. Work has its proper place in my life, and it doesn't bleed into other spaces that I hold sacred.”
Since starting his job search, Ervin has shifted from a focus on work to a focus on life—who he is, what kind of community he wants, what kind of relationships he wants—and how work might fit into that picture. Ultimately, Ervin believes this will help him contribute in a more meaningful way in whatever job he ends up taking.
“By working on myself—by actually being who I was created to be—that’s justice. That’s the work,” he said. “If I’m living up to my values, building community, doing work that’s healing, taking care of my body, building a spiritual life—that does contribute. Doing that work is contributing to the world that I want.”