Until I moved to Canada, I couldn’t afford expensive things. I got my stuff at the local market in the uphill streets of La Paz, Bolivia. 

But here I was admiring red shoes in the window of the Blundstone store on Queen Street West in Toronto, my new home. The price was $250. No way, I said to myself. These are too expensive. I walked away, but after a few minutes, I came back. I thought yes! It was time to reward myself. 

When I decided to get married, I had a plan. First, move with my husband to a new life in Canada, then go to school or find a job, and then get pregnant. But things did not work out that way. After two years, there I was: an unemployed landed immigrant, not going to school, and not even pregnant.

From other Spanish-speaking immigrants, I heard only discouraging comments about how you are a nobody when you move to Canada and that you must settle for any job to get the famous Canadian work experience. I said, “How are you going to get it if no one gives you the chance?” I turned to my own community for help. But that can be tricky. You might get some, or you might get none.

Through a new Bolivian friend, I learned about a free ESL program for professional newcomers. I enrolled, and right after, I started an internship at the Living Arts Centre in Mississauga. Although I loved it, it was unpaid. What now? I thought what could help was having a network. I volunteered wherever I could to grow my incipient contact list. I did some small jobs. I worked as a consultant doing market research. I even played an Easter Bunny at a restaurant. Then I started babysitting for a family I had met through my community.

It turned out that my employer, who was Bolivian, came from a family I knew. Once, he suggested that if I cleaned up the house, his wife could help me get a job. But that wasn’t what I was hired to do. I felt manipulated. I did my best, though, but didn’t get any job. 

Time passed. I got depressed. If an internship, networking, or my fellow Bolivians weren’t the solution, what should I do? I started to send my resume out wildly, everywhere I could. 

That’s how I applied for a position at a bank. My background is in communications, and I had never worked in a bank in my life. After I pressed ‘send’, I felt embarrassed. I didn’t have the required certifications. I immediately wrote to the people at the bank and withdrew my application, saying I wasn’t qualified. They thanked me for my honesty. 

And that was the turning point. The next morning my phone rang. Telemarketers, I thought. I was not going to answer. The phone kept ringing. I picked up. The executive director of a non-profit organization introduced himself. He said he had gotten my resume from someone at the bank. The next day he interviewed me. By the evening, I had a job. It was not directly in my field, but close enough. I still work there and in my field.

So, it was not any of those other things—but my honesty and my insistence on being who I am—that got me the job.

After I received my first paycheque, I bought the red Blundstones. They are comfortable and simple in design. That’s their best quality. The leather looks hard, but it turns soft after you wear them for a couple of days. They have gotten their own faded, but still attractive, red. They have bootstraps that make the Blundstones easy to put on. When I wear them, I think they are the reward for pulling myself up ‘by my own bootstraps’.