8 Horcruxes of Job Search in Canada. Part 1

Should be read with a generous dose of sarcasm and a touch of tragic irony.

I promised myself I wouldn’t write anything about job searching in Canada until I actually landed a job. Well. Promise fulfilled. Let’s go.

This won’t be a series of countless articles— because searching for a job in Canada is a full-blown novel in several volumes. I’ll save that saga for retirement (scratch that—I'll turn it into a training course). But I will write a few articles anyway, because I genuinely want to support every Ukrainian and all the other immigrants currently navigating the complexities of the job market in a foreign, demanding, and often inflexible environment.

"If you’re going through hell—keep going", or, to put it differently: why are we constantly told to “start from scratch”?

This quote has become my personal mantra over the past six months—along with its bitterly ironic follow-up.

Ukrainians are in a unique situation.

On one hand, our brave soldiers have been holding off “the second-largest army in the world” for over half a year. russia, sluggishly choking on its own “we’ll take Kyiv in 3 days” arrogance, is now overwhelmed with cheerful Cargo 200 shipments.

Ukrainian women evacuate children, secure housing, learn new languages, and integrate into foreign societies, while their husbands and sons continue holding the line — working remotely from empty apartments lit only by the sounds of air raid sirens and “all-clear” notifications.

On the other hand, something weird is happening. Many Ukrainians abroad are encountering an unspoken — no, widely spoken and deeply internalized—Law when searching for jobs. It goes something like this:

The Law of Ukrainian Immigrants in the Foreign Job Market:

Every Ukrainian, regardless of faith, race, age, gender, education, or past experience, upon entering a new country must agree to the following:

1. Apply only for jobs several levels below the one they held in Ukraine.

Cleaner, waiter, delivery driver—these are the recommended roles, even if you were a senior manager or director back home. Applying for a role that matches your qualifications is strictly discouraged.

This is no disrespect to the professions mentioned above. It's about the right fit between skills and role. Personally, I’d make a terrible waitress — my back hurts, my wrinkles show, and my intense gaze in uniform would probably make guests quietly leave the venue.

2. Forget all professional knowledge and skills acquired through blood, sweat, and sleepless nights.

Apparently, once you cross the border, your brain is magically wiped clean — defragmented and reborn with no trace of civilization or IQ.

3. Never ask for a salary that would allow you to rent a decent place or buy a car.

Asking for financial dignity is offensive. You’ll be tried in the Court of Lynch for devaluing the experiences of those who came before you.Because, you see—Ukrainians are getting everything for free these days.War, apparently, is the ultimate benefit.In case you didn’t know.

4. Expect to job search for at least a year.

Building a network or proving yourself professionally any sooner is “impossible.”(Laughs hysterically. Slams door.)

In all my time abroad, the phrase that exhausted me the most is:

“You’ll have to start from scratch.”

I can't imagine a more toxic statement.

Think about it.

You crawled out from under bombs with superhuman effort. You pieced your mind back together. You managed depression, sometimes with meds, sometimes with alcohol, sometimes both. You supported your kids’ fragile mental health. You stayed in touch —through one ear — with family members still in Ukraine: your husband, brother, son. You opened offices in Cyprus, Paris, Switzerland—wherever needed. You volunteered with your third hand, donated with your whole soul. You navigated bureaucracies for housing and aid in “Whereverland.”

This is a composite picture — but one that reflects many of my friends' realities.

And just when you're starting to get back on your feet, your own community hits you with:

• “You shouldn’t apply for a leadership role.”

• “That salary? Too high, you won’t get it.”

• “To work here as a doctor or dentist, you’ll need several lifetimes. Don’t even try. Just go clean houses.”

• “Take the first job that comes. Be grateful for anything.”

  
  

Let’s be clear: most Ukrainians (not all, of course) are not asking for shortcuts, special treatment, or crowns. They just want to return home — or at least build a peaceful life in this new land. They want to enroll their children in school and kindergarten. They want to contribute to the society they’ve landed in — by doing the work they know, love, and excel at.

And they’re ready to work. At 20, at 40, at 50. But they’re not “starting from scratch. Especially not Ukrainians, who are now carrying the unimaginable... I can’t even define what exactly they’re carrying… but they are.

And no, they never wore crowns. Because crowns are imperial. And that’s a different story altogether.

So, my journey of shattering all these myths and catching my own golden Snitch consisted of 8 Horcruxes*— each one proving this simple truth, shared by Lars Schmidt during a humanitarian webinar for Ukrainian HR professionals:

Horcrux #1.

Give yourself full authority to decide what job and what salary you're going after in this new country—Whereverland. And every time you feel like believing someone who makes you doubt your own worth, donate $10 to the Armed Forces of Ukraine, do 50 pushups and 100 squats. Immediately.

Horcrux #2.

Switch to GTD mode. Eliminate distractions. Add this line to your work record: “Full-time job seeker (2.5 FTE). Yes, 2.5 — because job hunting abroad is harder than at home. Because home is home. Here, in addition to proving you’re not a squirrel, you have to fight off the constant “just start from scratch” narrative.

There are resources. There is support.

Read about the remaining 6 Horcruxes in the next articles. Stay safe, strong, and sound.

And be brave — like a Ukrainian.

P.S. I haven’t mentioned English on purpose. English is not optional. It’s a must-have.

*Horcrux – from the Harry Potter series, an object that contains a fragment of a dark wizard’s soul, created through trauma and separation. In this metaphor, each Horcrux is a shard of the soul forged through hardship and rebirth — part of how we, as a Ukrainian nation, are transforming and rising anew.

August 15, 2022.