On my first day of work at the neighborhood ice cream shop, my boss lined up cups on the counter, handed me a scooper, and set a timer.
“A perfect scoop takes under 24 seconds,” he said.
Ice cream splattered as I tried to keep up. It humbled me, but I kept showing up. The pay is $16.50 an hour plus tips, and I — a 31-year-old with years of experience in news and tech — expected to be working alongside teenagers.
Instead, when I started working at Lady Moo Moo in Bed-Stuy, I found myself surrounded by people who, like me, had already built careers and are now navigating an unpredictable job market. Some had been laid off just as I had. Others, like my colleague who is a sex educator and public health advocate, lost funding in their fields. A few are juggling multiple part-time roles to stay afloat.
We’re all piecing together income however we can, showing up where steady work exists. We have responsibilities and ambition. We’re trying and adapting. There is zero shame in it.






