Other applicants whose cumulative life experiences better aligned

 It’s 5:30 in the morning. I wake up on a couch, check my phone, and there it is — another rejection letter.

“Other applicants whose cumulative life experiences better aligned.”

That line hit hard.

I stopped applying for many jobs after hundreds — maybe over a thousand — applications over the years. People who have not lived through long-term job rejection do not understand what it does to a person psychologically. Every application takes energy, hope, tailoring resumes, writing cover letters, emotional labour, and then often silence or rejection.

Eventually, people stop because survival itself becomes exhausting.

I am now less than a year away from my pension, trying to survive nine more months in an economy that feels increasingly impossible. My dog-walking and house-sitting arrangement ended because the friend I was staying with became too ill to manage without professional care. Life changes quickly when you are already financially vulnerable.

Now I am couchsurfing.

I clean one house a week. I am trying to find more dog-walking work because so many jobs are either physically too demanding, emotionally draining, don’t pay enough to survive, or simply will not hire older workers with unconventional backgrounds.

And while ordinary people struggle harder than ever, we are constantly told there is no money.

I don’t believe that anymore.

There is money. Massive amounts of money. The question is where it goes, who controls it, and why so many systems designed to “help” seem unable to stop worsening poverty, homelessness, addiction, and hopelessness.

We need to have an honest conversation about the nonprofit industry in British Columbia.

Not every person working in nonprofits is bad. Many frontline workers are exhausted and trying their best. But the overall model is failing badly. Administrative structures continue growing while homelessness and housing insecurity explode across BC.

Look at the scandals we have already seen, including questions surrounding organizations like Atira. Meanwhile, more people are sleeping in vehicles, couchsurfing, living in fear of eviction, or one illness away from homelessness.

The unhoused and vulnerable in BC are being squeezed from every direction while governments prepare for global events like FIFA and market Vancouver as a world-class destination.

World-class for who?

Because for many residents, survival is becoming terrifying.

I recently saw a hiring video from Lake Louise. Out of almost everyone shown, nearly every worker appeared to be from overseas — many with English or Irish accents. Meanwhile, countless Canadians, older workers, and struggling locals cannot find stable work.

People feel discarded.

And maybe that is why so many are angry.

We are told to keep applying, keep smiling, keep adapting, keep “upskilling,” while rents skyrocket, wages stagnate, and social systems become increasingly bureaucratic and disconnected from real life.

Indigenous communities understood something modern society forgot during hard times: community survival matters. Shared food, shared knowledge, shared responsibility. Many Elders have pointed out that during the Depression, some communities survived because they still understood land, food preservation, mutual support, and collective care.

Modern society replaced much of that with systems, paperwork, administration, and profit-driven thinking.

Now many people feel trapped inside systems that no longer function for ordinary human beings.

This is not just about me waking up to another rejection letter at dawn.

This is about a growing number of people quietly living on the edge, exhausted, aging, underhoused, and wondering how a wealthy country became so difficult to survive in.

1. At what point does repeated job rejection stop being “motivation” and start becoming psychological harm?

2. Why are so many older workers struggling to find stable employment despite decades of life and work experience?

3. How can homelessness and housing insecurity continue rising in one of the wealthiest countries in the world?

4. Are nonprofit organizations being structured in ways that truly solve problems, or mainly manage ongoing crises?

5. Why do governments and corporations always seem to find money for mega-events, development, and marketing, but not enough for affordable housing or income security?

6. What happens to a society when more people feel disposable, invisible, or economically trapped?

7. Have modern systems become too bureaucratic and disconnected from real human needs and community care?

8. What can we learn from Indigenous and traditional community models about survival, food security, and mutual support during difficult times?

9. How many people are quietly couchsurfing, underhoused, or one emergency away from homelessness without being counted in official statistics?

10. What kind of future are we creating if ordinary people must live in fear of aging, illness, or losing housing in order to survive?